oh, wow
by fittedhatsandacaralarm
Summary: "you want to marry me. oh, no, silly me, you need to marry me." / druna multichap.
1. Chapter 1

It was really quite awkward for Draco to be sitting with Luna Lovegood in the parlor of Malfoy Manor, her smile much too wide and his much too forced. He really had no idea where his mother and father were, and her father had left hours earlier. Not a word had been spoken between the two teenagers, beside awkward greetings.

"It's quite lovely, Draco," Luna said suddenly, daintily setting down the gold-rimmed china teacup she'd been sipping out of. Her long fingernails were painted all different, sparkly colors, and she was obviously quite uncomfortable in the blue floral dress she was wearing. He had a sneaking suspicion that she'd much prefer to be in her old Hogwarts uniform. The triangular finger sandwiches sitting on a plate on the coffee table were as untouched as the tea; Luna had eaten two.

"What's lovely?" he asked, his thin, blonde eyebrows knitted together in confusion. It seemed that whatever she said was pulled out of thin air. Not that he'd paid special attention to what Loony Lovegood ever said.

"The manor," she said softly and looked at him, crystal blue meeting cold grey. He just gave a short nod of thanks, his eyes displaying his evident confusion. Now, he wished he'd never sent that bloody letter.

The whole meeting had started weeks earlier when Draco had, on the spur of a moment, sent Luna a letter requesting tea. He was almost twenty, after all. He needed a wife, and none of the Slytherin girls would take him since the end of the war. After thinking for a long while, he figured Luna was the only pureblood stupid enough to marry him left.

"You don't have to be so nice to me, Draco. By now, most other Slytherin boys would be calling me Loony and saying I'm insane. But I'm perfectly sane, aren't I, Draco? At least you seem to think so. But I might be wrong," she added as an afterthought, tearing her gaze away from his and sipping her tea again, staring out the window absently.

"Er, yes, Luna, of course you're sane," Draco stammered and raked his fingers through his messy white-blonde hair, streaked with honey-colored strands. His hands were shaking; this would definitely be more difficult than he'd thought.

"You want to marry me. Oh, no, silly me. You _need_ to marry me," Luna said simply, still staring out the window. "Those are quite lovely peacocks, Draco. I would have thought, with the state the manor is in, they would have left. Hmm. They're still beautiful."

Draco didn't quite know how to respond to this. Yes, it was true. He _needed_ to marry her. Some of his friends were already having second children. Bloody hell, Astoria and Blaise were pregnant with twins! It was a tad strange, actually. They'd barely graduated Hogwarts a year and a half earlier. Weren't they just supposed to be beginning to pick what they wanted to do with their life? But, oh, no, while Potter and his Gryffindor friends were off in Auror training and freeing house elves, Draco's profession had been chosen for him the moment Narcissa discovered she was pregnant. And Luna—well, Luna was scheduled to be the Care of Magical Creatures professor after she finished up studying with her father and Charlie Weasley in Romania. At least, she would be if Draco hadn't stepped in.

By then, Luna was staring at Draco with wide, questioning blue eyes. He stammered out a single word, "Yes," because why lie? He'd done enough lying for quite a few lifetimes.

"What if I don't need to marry you, Draco?" she asked softly, filling the silence between them. She set down her tea cup for a second time and sighed. Her stare was terrifyingly calm, with just a hint of sadness if you squinted and tilted your head to the left.

"I don't know," Draco mumbled and, with an almost identical sigh, flopped back against the back of the sofa in defeat. He was done with fucking formalities. Why did things have to be formal all the time, anyways? He was a teenager; he deserved to relax for five minutes.

"What if I want to?"

_{Ugh, I ship Druna so hard. I just think they'd balance each other out. He's so complex and insecure, and at the same time, she's so simple and secure with herself. Just… 3 Druna love. Anyways, this has the potential for becoming a multi-chap. Even if it isn't, there will be a second part/chapter. Don't forget to review! (:}_


	2. Chapter 2

Luna's dreamy little smile widened as she let Draco dwell on the thought of her—insane, crazy, Loony Lovegood—wanting to marry him. She'd never admit aloud that she'd liked him since fourth year—regardless of his intentions to murder Professor Dumbledore. He was intriguing, really. Especially since it was her that he'd confided in, her that he'd told he didn't want to be a Death Eater. Luna was always good at keeping secrets. And, anyways, she wanted to fix him, to pick apart all of his lovely little flaws and reveal to him that he wasn't a bad person, but a good person that bad things had happened to. She, of all people, had seen through the silly façade Draco had put up through all of his school years to please his father. She, of all people, knew him better than he knew himself. It was tragically, beautifully scary.

"Then I'm not sure what to say," he said finally with a deep sigh, not daring to look her in the eye. She'd expected this; Draco was always much too terrified of his own feelings. Secretly, he really did remind her of a ferret sometimes.

"Say yes," Luna replied with a simple finality laced in her voice, the corners of her pink lips turning up in the smallest, daintiest smile you could imagine. She knew it would never be love for him. She knew she'd end up getting her heart broken. But she was eighteen and stupid. She'd never done anything for herself, always giving and giving to Dumbledore's Army, to Harry, to Hermione, to Ron, to Neville. And now, finally, after four years, she was doing something for herself, no matter how much pain she might land herself in.

Another long, painfully static silence hung in the air, pressing down on them both until they thought they might suffocate; the crystal vases might explode; the walls might cave in on them if the terrible lack of sound lasted any second longer. Still, neither teenager spoke. It was quite a few minutes before it hit her that he might say no. It had all been an elaborate plot for happiness that he could tear down with a single word. And, for the first time in her life, the simple power of words terrified her. The teasing at school had never bothered her. The words printed in the Daily Prophet, cruelly and harshly black against the yellowed parchment, had never taken away from her hope in The Quibbler. The words spoken at her mother's funeral had never brought even a tear to her thicket of dark lashes because they weren't true; the words that frail, aged wizard had spoken weren't her mother. They were a script. But, now, words had her skin curling and her heart racing and her breath quickening rapidly. Except it wasn't because the bloody silence was so damn suffocating.

She was just beginning to lose hope when Draco, his chapped lower lip bit down in frustration and his eyebrows knitted together over stony grey eyes in worry, finally spoke.

"Yes. Fine, yes."

"Oh, wow. Oh, wow! Lovely, really lovely!" she murmured, flustered, her pink-painted lips pulling back into a smile, revealing whitewhitewhite teeth, her pale, bony hands clasping together in excitement. Her scatter-brained mind was already buzzing with wedding plans and, of course, how to tell her friends that she was _marrying _Draco Malfoy.

It might not ever be love for the two misfit teenagers spit out from a hell of a war, but in that split-second of pure, buzzing, static elation, Luna Lovegood was truly happy for one of the first times in her short, horribly scarred life.


End file.
